Comfort from the Least Likely Place
by MoonPrincess919
Summary: Contains Spoilers for FMA:B and Lethal Hurricane. Never had she felt so lost than the night he died. If it weren't for the last person she wanted to see, her sorrow and despair would've swallowed her hole. But, what do his kind actions mean, when all he's shown her until now is contempt?


When the light of her magic died, Hurricane fell to her knees, blades clattering to ground. It felt as though time had stopped as she stared down at the crimson color that would forever haunt her. It was everywhere; her clothes, her hands, her blades, the ground as it continued to spill out of the man before her. She wanted to scream, wanted to cry out in anguish at the loss she'd just suffered at her own hands - forced though they were. Tears burned in her eyes as she tried to claw the despair and self-hatred burning in her chest out.

Gone. He was really gone. Maes Hughes was dead, cut down in a phonebooth.

And it was her fault.

If only she hadn't convinced him to keep looking into the senior staff, hadn't shared what they did to her family, her life, he would-! A strangled sob choked her as she hugged her shaking body. Silent tears streamed down her face in angry trails of red.

The night sky seemed to reflect her mood, thick clouds finally crying out angrily, loud claps of thunder echoing in her ears. Even as it soaked through her clothes, the brunette didn't move. Instead, the rain went unnoticed as her equally tumultuous thoughts kept her trapped in despair.

All she ever wanted was a little bit of happiness. A family to call her own, maybe even someone to spend her life with. But every time she got close, every time something good happened in her life, something horrible would ruin it.

No matter how much she struggled and fought for freedom, for a better path she alone forged, something came around to remind her of where she stood. To remind her that her life held no meaning - no purpose other than being a tool - so there was no point in fighting for more. She was starting to think that was just the how her life worked. An endless cycle of short-lived happiness and long-term suffering.

"What's the matter, Hurricane," a familiar mocking voice interrupted her thoughts.

She said nothing; didn't even move to acknowledge his presence. Hurri- Genevieve was too absorbed in her sorrow and despair to care. No, she didn't want to see any of them right now. They were the reason for this. They were why she could do nothing but obey. But was it completely their fault? Or was it instead that they'd finally crushed the last of her hope for freedom? Surely, she could've done something, anything to defy them. But what? What could she have possibly done without any consequences afterward? Nothing. So the real question is…

Is she still human or is she just a weapon? She didn't know anymore.

Envy scowled at her, nearly snarling at the silence he was greeted with. He didn't appreciate being ignored. So, stalking forward, he prepared to lash out at her. Only to stop upon seeing her face.

Her eyes were red and puffy despite the rain pouring down her face. The homunculus could barely make out the red tear tracks on her cheeks and the slight shake to her shoulders. Then he noticed her blades were out and bloody, matching the shaky, bloodstained hands holding them. Violet eyes followed the trail of blood to the source.

There, in the bloody phone booth behind him, was Maes Hughes with various burns all over and a single cut in his neck. What was left of him, at least. A photo lay near his charred outstretched hand, almost completely soaked with blood. Picking it up, Envy could make out the soldier standing next to his wife with his daughter on his shoulders. However, he also noticed the woman had her arms around Genevieve's shoulders. The brunette was smiling bright, looking happier than he'd ever seen her.

Turning back to the girl he'd taken an interest in, he began to realize how sad her life was. _And now? _Now, she was finally realizing just how far she'd fallen.

Something about that didn't sit right with him. Sure, the assassin needed to be reminded of her place, but something was different this time. Somehow, he knew his precious toy wouldn't be the same after this.

He was proven right by her continued silence.

It was only then, as he looked at her crumpled, shaking form that he realized how strong she was. Genevieve had put on a strong front, refusing to let anyone see her broken heart and shattered dreams. Even when they rubbed in her face how happy people around her were, she stood ground and brushed it off.

But it was always there, practically mocking her as she lived through each day.

Everyone around her had happiness in some way. The Elric brothers had each other. Garcia has her little girl. Mustang has his team. Hell, even the Fuhrer has a family to call his own. All the while she suffered silently by herself. Not once did she let anyone see her sorrow. It was unbelievable that, even when she saw those around her beaming with joy, Genevieve wasn't bitter or selfish about it.

The homunculus felt an ache form in his chest as his gaze finally found her face.

He'd never seen anyone look so broken before. Something inside him broke seeing how much the tragedy in her life had shattered her. He didn't want to mock her as he'd done to so many others. He also didn't want to leave her like that, had the strange urge to comfort her. For a moment, he was confused about what caused that urge but pushed it away.

Crouching down in front of her, he waved a hand in front of her face. "Hurricane?"

She blinked rapidly before her broken icy gaze fell on him. Through the tears, she could barely make out who he was. She whispered something under her breath and her blades deactivated. The blood on them seemed to wash away as they hissed closed.

"I did it," Genevieve whispered a bit louder.

"So, what more do you want from me?"

For whatever reason, the only thing he wanted now was to see her back on her feet, as determined as ever. It was weird. Suddenly, the thought of hurting her, the very idea of being the reason she looked so broken, didn't sit well with him.

He'd never felt like that before. It left him uneasy but something about it made him want to figure it out. Because, whatever this feeling was, he knew it was the key to finally getting what he really wanted out of his seemingly purposeless life. Maybe, just maybe, he could find a human who accepted him.

"Nothing, Hurricane," he sighed. Envy slowly stood up and offered a hand. She stared suspiciously at the hand he offered her before glancing back up at him. "Let's get you home."

Wary of his intentions, she hesitantly put her hand in his. Envy said nothing as he lifted her to her feet and started walking toward the Hughes' apartment. They walked in amiable silence, saying nothing even as they moved to the roofs. All the while, Envy still had a hold of her hand, fingers laced together. In her vulnerable state, it sparked a strange warmth of comfort in her heart. The irony that the very homunculus who mocked humans for their emotional weaknesses was the one comforting the assassin in her time of distress wasn't lost on her. In fact, it only made her more skeptical.

But Genevieve didn't want to think about it, didn't want to try to read into, for fear of seeing something that wasn't there. So she pushed it to the back of her mind and simply enjoyed his warm, gentle in her hand.

_But, _a traitorous thought spoke, _why is he being so gentle?_ It was something she tried to ignore until he stopped when they were a few buildings away from the complex.

Finally, unable to keep her curiosity hidden, Genevieve broke the silence. "Why are you doing this?"

The homunculus didn't respond. Really, what was he supposed to say? Because he had the urge to do it? Yeah, right. So, instead of giving her an answer, he smirked at her and disappeared, too confused about his own actions to give Genevieve an answer.

She shook her head, deciding it best to just go back home. However, as her thoughts turned to Maes, something akin to desperate hope nagged at her. Ulick said that when she reached a certain level of power, she would have the ability to do things no other Maga could. Maybe, if she worked hard to reach that level, her wish could be granted.

~oOo~

**Author's Note: So, those of you who have read Lethal Hurricane probably noticed the difference here at the end. I've probably mentioned it before, but that is part of how I'm changing the story. I figured it was time to use a concept I've been building for a while now. It's still a work in progress but I'm getting there!**

**Anyway, please read and review!**


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